Frog Legs
by Danny Phantom SG-1
Summary: Tiana refuses to allow a particular entree to appear on her restaurant's menu, and Naveen tries to help her argument along. Silliness follows in this rather short oneshot.


**A/N: Forgive me for this, but I had to write _something_. I loved Disney's _Princess and the Frog_, but the only fanfic plots I could think to take on were long...and I don't do well with lengthy projects. So I wrote this in about a half hour for the sake of writing anything. I needed to write, and this movie was the only of my three current obsessions (PatF, Animaniacs, Mickey Mouse) for which I could flesh out even a vague plot (though I do have a few other fics in the works...sort of). Hopefully, someone, somewhere will enjoy this. I'll take any feedback you have, good or bad. Enjoy.**

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Tiana sat with her head in her hands, ready to collapse from boredom. She hated going over the menu with the other chefs. It was _her _restaurant; she should be able to decide which dishes they would and would not serve. But she had to admit that _some _of their input was helpful…when they weren't blathering on about their secret recipes and listing hundreds of new ideas they had come up with. She loved food, and she especially loved making it; but these guys made it seem like a chore just to cook up a meal. To Tiana, cooking was something _fun_—something exciting that she did when she needed a break from work. Cooking itself never seemed like a job to her…which was why she loved her restaurant so much.

"…And some fried cod might be good to get the more conservative folk to try some seafood. Or I was thinking maybe even frog legs might be tasty for the more upper-crust…you know, explore a little of the city's French roots, and—"

Tiana's head shot up from her stupor. "Excuse me, but what did you just say?"

The chef jumped, clearly surprised that the owner of the restaurant had hopped into a conversation for once. "I said…frog legs?"

Tiana's eyes narrowed. "That's what I thought you said. And the answer to that one is a definite 'no.'" She glowered at them and pointed her finger, feeling even the suggestion of eating frog legs strike a nerve and cause an uneasy sense of…cannibalism…to rise in her stomach and make her gag.

Oblivious, a chorus of disappointed chefs sighed simultaneously.

"But it would be so nice, so easy with the amount of frogs hopping around the bayou and everything, you know?" the youngest chef suggested, hoping to push the issue.

Tiana opened her mouth, ready to deny the request as quickly as possible, when Naveen came into the meeting.

"Um, heh, excuse me," he muttered quickly to the chefs at the table before moving in to whisper to Tiana.

"Tiana, it is two and a half hours past closing time, and we have to wake up early to start the drill and get the restaurant ready again for tomorrow! Not to mention you and I have some other, eh…important 'business' to get down to, if you know what I mean, yes?" he said shiftily, his meaning shining clear in his dark eyes and his sly, crooked smile.

"I _know_ that, Naveen," Tiana attempted to whisper through her teeth. "Maybe you'd like to remind the three bottomless bowls of talkativeness that they have to get started workin' at seven o'clock in the mornin'!" she practically shouted at the three oblivious chefs seated around the table.

There was an awkward pause, and Naveen chuckled nervously before clearing his throat and turning to the job at hand—get these guys out of here as quickly as possible.

"All right, what seems to be the problem here, gentlemen?" He looked toward the skinny younger chef, "and twig?"

"Miss Tiana will not allow us to place frog legs on the menu…and that was one of the few dishes the three of us agreed would work quite splendidly," drawled the older British-sounding chef.

Naveen coughed roughly as the man said it, but he just _had _to be sure he'd heard correctly.

"Eh…could you say that…eh, what was that dish…again?"

Getting tired of the same old routine, the man rolled his eyes and spoke very slowly. "Frrrog. Legsss."

"Oh. Yes…well the answer is 'no.' Completely out of the question. End of story. There we go," and with that, he clapped his hands and rose from the table, ready to depart. "Goodbye little chefs," he glanced at them again. "Er…smallish chef, large chef and Mr. Twig. See you tomorrow morning at seven o'clock, and—"

"Now hold on just a moment," the British chef started up again. "I demand to know why on Earth you refuse to allow us to serve frog legs when all three of us agree on their being on the menu."

Naveen pulled a grimace and looked to Tiana, who gave him an equally horrified yet stern face.

For some reason, the truth did not seem like the best answer at the moment.

"Eh, okay. I will tell you why," he leaned in closer to the table, encouraging the chefs to do likewise as he whispered. "But you must never tell anybody. If word got out that the Maldonian prince was…deathly afraid of frogs…my country would be shamed."

He paused for only a moment then continued without missing another beat. He was a natural at exaggerating.

"When I was but a boy, the servants used to read a book to me every night—"The Frog Prince." I assume you are familiar with the tale? Anyway, I was about to go to bed one night when…" he burst into a rumbling, croaking noise that was so loud, it surprised even Tiana. "A FROG was right there in front of my eyes. Then, it shot its tongue at my forehead and tried to devour me! Actually, if not for the fact that my good looks were too much for his poor froggy eyes, I would not be here telling this tale."

Everyone sat in a dazed and confused silence, staring at Naveen who had a smug smile of satisfaction on his face. Finally, the twiggy chef broke the stillness.

"But…then why wouldn't you want to kill and _eat _them. Wouldn't that be like…revenge?"

Naveen's face fell and he turned once more to Tiana who shrugged. The little pest had a point.

Slapping his face, he let his hand fall slowly down as he thought his response through…

Ah, faldi faldonza.

Honesty was the best policy after all…right?

"All right, fine. You want to know the truth? I don't want to _eat _frogs because, at one point, I _was _a frog. She," he said wildly, gesturing to Tiana, "was a frog. We were both _frogs_. I got turned into a frog by an evil voodoo man and I kissed her and we both became frogs and we met an alligator and a firefly and a star and an old blind voodoo lady who helped us find out that we loved each other and then we got married but not before the scary voodoo man died and the firefly was killed trying to save us and then became a star himself to be with his true love Evangeline. Okay?"

Again, a strained silence pervaded after Naveen's rapid-fire jumpy and unintelligible story.

Finally, a snort emitted from the mostly-silent, larger chef, followed by a light chuckle from the British chef, and eventually the twig began to guffaw until all three were laughing out loud.

"Well, heavens, chap, you _do _know how to make up stories on the fly, don't you?" inquired the Brit, wiping his eyes with a napkin as he began to cry from his laughter.

"Yeah, that was…a little outrageous, pal. You got skills. Maybe you should be our creative consultant for descriptions in the menu," piped in the twig.

Finally, the big guy spoke up. "Yeah, that's fine. If ya didn't like frog legs, you coulda just said so. We'da been outta your hair fifteen minutes ago. But, uh, thanks for the story, Princey," he said, slapping Naveen rather harder than he'd intended on the back.

"Uh, heh heh. Yes. Sure. I do not like them. Let's go with that so that we can get out of here," Naveen laughed anxiously.

As the chefs continued to gather up their things, Tiana giggled and walked over to stand next to Naveen. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you for rescuing your damsel in distress," she said sarcastically as she laughed.

"Hey, I did not marry any damsel in distress," he countered, holding her tight and anticipating getting home before they had to be back to work…in six hours.

The chefs began to file out, still laughing at the outlandish story told by Naveen, but the twiggy guy straggled, leaning against the doorframe for breath as he continued laughing.

"Y'know, that was a really creative story. But I don't understand why you don't like frog legs…I mean, I think they taste pretty good. Why don't you like 'em?" he asked, curious.

Naveen thought for about half a second, and seeing the glint in his eyes, Tiana was worried he would go rambling into another story and make them even _later_ getting home. But, as usual, he surprised her, and she suspected he always would.

"I don't like them because they taste…like mucus," he explained curtly, and both he and Tiana broke into a hearty, secret sort of laugh, falling into each other for support as the twig-man stood perplexed in the doorway.

And Tiana was secretly glad the meeting had run too long; she could never be bored with Naveen by her side.

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**Well...that was sure a departure from what I usually write. Please let me know if it was at all tolerable. Thanks you! Have a "hoppy" day...yes, I did just say that. :)**


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